


When you find your blue, think of me.

by Lesty



Series: Self-Indulgent Petty Revenge Fics [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, Lams is endgame, M/M, Soulmate AU, alex has green eyes, alexander has a tragic backstory™, also there's cookie dough, but we call them cyclones, cause southern hemisphere yo, eliza is a florist, eliza protection squad 2k17, it'll makes sense tho dw, john protection squad 2k17, musical references too, seriously writing about hurricanes when you've been in one is triggering af, the revolutionary set work at an animal shelter, the schuylers are kinda terrifying, they’re all in university, this is part of a war between me and my friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesty/pseuds/Lesty
Summary: A soulmate AU where you only see the colour that represents your soulmates soul until you touch your soulmate.After a dreadful start in life, Alexander is given a second chance when he meets the Schuylers. It only gets better when he meets the revolutionary set.--For Eliza's 260th Birthday today!





	When you find your blue, think of me.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fanfictiongreenirises](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/gifts).



> points for whoever finds the most musical theatre references
> 
> unbeta'd whoops
> 
> all credit for the flower arrangement belongs to [this bean](http://thursdayplaid.tumblr.com/post/147191071477/how-do-you-say-fuck-you-and-everything-you-stand)
> 
> mon âme sœur - my soul mate

Soulmates were a tricky thing. Ask anyone and they had their own views on how it exactly worked. Some said that souls were tethered together since the beginning of time, spending lifetimes trying to find one another. Others suggested it was simply a freak of nature since no other living animal presented the same qualities, whereas the a select few felt it was part of humanity's evolution, that once the brain released enough endorphins, it unlocked a hidden part of the retina causing the soul-mate phenomenon. Either way, what was known was that once you first touched your soul-mate, you were able to see in colour.

Each person had a unique colour that reflects their soul, and before meeting one’s soulmate, one could only see that single colour. The colour was an extension of the person's very being and became a sort of lifeline toward sanity, safety, and security. One was never truly alone if they could still see their soulmates colour. As long as one could see their soulmates colour, one knew their soulmate was alive. High praise was given to these single colours, sonnets, whole plays were written glorifying these and signifying the true significance of meeting one’s soulmate, for it truly was a joyous occasion. It was practically unheard of to not see a single colour.

Which was why Alexander Hamilton was an anomaly.

In his short life in the Caribbean, he had never seen a single colour. But oh, how he tried. He read countless books claiming to show different colours, he scoured the islands for any shade of any colour under the sun. His desperation had spent him numerous nights on many a journey to find something, _anything_ , that could validate that he even _had_ a soulmate. After a while though, he had begun to give up.

He had learnt of the cruelty of soulmates at age nine. It was then he had witness his father mercilessly tormenting his mother. He had hidden behind the doorway, his heart pounding in his ears as he was paralysed by the shackles of fear, the world an icy hue, as if the world has been enveloped by liquid metal. His breath has been ragged as the world shook around him, his mother’s terrified screams piercing through his very soul. He hadn’t known it then, but she had shielded him from the agony caused by James Sr.’s for 5 years, her skins canvas of bruises often excused as clumsiness on her part. Alexander remembered one morbid night, when she had lead his small finger outlining the bruises on her skin, teaching him the various colours of purple, black, and blue, and how she hoped he would never have to see it.

His father disappeared the following year.

Alexanders mother claimed that the night he disappeared, she stopped seeing colour.

With their only source of income gone, Alexanders mother began _alternative_ work to provide her children with enough money to survive. Undignified work, she was often gone for nights at a time, leaving at dusk and returning by dawn at the earliest. During the day, men clawed at her in the street, women sneered at her, and mothers ushered their children away. The small community of Nevis was almost as isolated from the rest of the world, as the Hamilton’s were to the community. Brandished with the label “whore”, the Hamilton children became known as the “Bastard sons of the loveless whore”. Girls had thrown rocks at him in the streets, Boys had mugged him and beaten him to a state of non-recognition, teachers had banned him from class. The stigma on who they were left them with a stain of shame, tormenting them as if they were weak. It had been exhausting, pretending that he didn’t care about their opinions, but in reality, every taunt, every word of disregard was cataclysmic, making Alexanders face flush a burn brighter than the sun, his mind scattering like a rabbit on the run.

It took 7 months for his brother to run away.

Then Alexander and his mother were sick and any semblance towards the community was forgotten. He had been laying there, back pressed up against his mother’s shaking form, his body aching as his lungs painfully took in the humid air of their damp bedroom. He throat was constricted to shallow gasps of pain. He looked to his mother’s ashen face, she had never looked so lacking in spirit, and Alexander had never felt the dread of loss crawl up his throat so violently before. He clung to the small plastic bucket as if it held his life force, swallowing as his throat kept clenching manically. No matter what he tried, he could not stop the abhorrent feeling edge up his throat, he could taste the acrid tang of bile in the back of his mouth as he buckled over, throwing up what little had been inside him, his body forcing what seemed to be his very stomach lining out of him.

He felt his mother’s thin arms wrap around him in a feeble attempt to cease the unnerving chill that ran down his spine and making his skin tingle. Her breath came in trembling, short gasps in his ear as she leaned down next to him, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper, “Let me tell you a story.” Alexanders thoughts swam in his brain, barely lucid to form a coherent thought, yet alone an argument to tell his mother to save what little strength she had. At his silence she continued, “Your fathers colour was a deep red, but it was never my favourite colour.

“Think of your pain Alexander, your fears your doubts. Imagine them falling like dust around you. Your anger, your sorrow, the dust slowly forms into a silent breeze. The breeze dances around you, enters your soul and strengthens your very self. It forms a whole new world around you, grounding yourself in the sand, the breeze turns into the salty air on your skin. It draws the ocean to you, cleansing you of your worries, moving in a steady rhythm with your heart. This is blue Alexander, my favourite colour. For in the darkest of times, it provides you with the confidence you need to survive.

Find your blue Alexander, and when you do, think of me.”

Fires burn, fevers consume, and with those last words her fingers fell by her side, her pale skin a deathly shade of white, the fight for her had ended, and in his mother’s death, Alexander selfishly survived.

Alexander never breathed easy again. Each breath he took reached an ever present higher peak, the warm air never soothing the aching emptiness in his heart. He lived as a shell, a heavy feeling in his gut as the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, forever gluing him to the Earth. Sometimes he dreamed about flying away from it all, but he couldn’t. For his heart had a hole that could not be filled and he feared that grief was now his master. He was at its mercy until he could gain the strength to cope with all that he had lost, but the ferocity in which his master treated him left him as nothing but an empty husk of his former self.

Which was probably why he only felt numb to his cousin’s suicide.

Homeless and destitute, the hurricane had been the worst of it all. It was some sort of dramatic irony in a way, the satellite images had made it seem so beautiful, a perfect twist no more threatening than the swirl of milk stirred into coffee. When it had finally hit, it was like some scene out of a thriller movie, the wind had lashed around violently, creating a howl in the dead of night. The rain plummeted from the heavens, as if it were a weapon of the gods, beating the ground raw in an act of dominance, forcing mere mortals into submission as nature demonstrated its destructive power.

The small hut Alexander had found himself in shook brutally, he had never seen so much destruction. The trees swayed vehemently, roofs off old tin sheds flung off, zipping around the town like Frisbee’s. The water found no place to drain so so began to rise, flooding the small town. What the wind could not destroy the water surely took care of, tearing down anything that stood in its path. Alexander had braved the outdoors, scrambling up the hut and resting on the rickety roof, the wind thrashing his hair around so aggressively he could barely see. For a moment he swore he saw an umbrella floating along the violent flood waters, but the sheer magnitude and horror of that weekend left a permanent scar in his mind, one he forcibly tried to forget.

Later, some would say they saw a yellow sky, but Alexander would never know for sure.

So he wrote. Every pain, every atrocity he had been forced to endure, every hardship, each stigma, each damaging aspect of his life that had battered his fragile heart, he poured his entire soul onto a page. With every stroke of his pen he felt a shade lighter, as if he had finally found freedom, an escape to the hell he was living. His calling, a beckoning from above, a reason to keep moving forward. His mind became his castle, twisting his ever buzzing mind to formulate new ideas, new ways of expression, creating a whole new level of meaning out of nothing. The gods had granted him hell, but they gifted him with his saving grace-- words.

With this new power, he was granted passage to New York, where he could reach his true potential and just maybe, find his blue.

-/-

“Do we have a problem?” A venomous voice erupted, freezing a young man to the spot

The Schuyler sisters, each with beauty, brains, and wit were a force to be reckoned with. Angelica, the eldest, gave an icy glare, using every ounce of her authority to shut the offender down. It was not a difficult feat, for her tightly coiled curls and confident demeanour forced the surrounding populace to turn her way. She was a figurehead, every room she entered, she commanded, taking on a sort of authority only reserved for the highest of officials in the school- or teachers. To say the least, she was an intimidating storm.

The youngest of the three, Margarita Schuyler or “Peggy” as she was known, stepped to her oldest sister’s side, sending the boy a sidelong smirk, “You got a bone to pick?” she snapped. Unlike the eldest, her own wild mane was pulled into a tight ponytail. Peggy was arguably the most ruthless of the Schuyler’s when she set her mind to it, weaving her way into whatever situation she needed to acquire whatever she desired. She had an element of mirth about her, not unlike a Naiad from ancient Greek mythology. Playful and kind to those she liked, but merciless to those who crossed her.

Elizabeth, the middle child, stood to the side forgotten. This was not an uncommon occurrence for her. She loved her sisters dearly but they could be rather- overbearing, to say the least. Eliza was almost the polar opposite of her sisters, with a pale completion and raven straight hair, she stood out like a sore thumb. Her very nature was different to them, she had never been one for confrontation, and had always preferred empathy over the blind rage her sister had adopted. None of these features helped what she had dubbed as “middle-child syndrome”- in which because the eldest child was showered with affection first, and the last child was the youngest, the middle child would often be excluded in favour of the other two. It could be tedious at times, but Eliza had learnt to adapt.

The boy bit his lip, he couldn’t be older than a junior, with sandy blonde hair and a round face that had yet to loose it’s baby fat. “Yeah,” he spat, “I guess we do have a problem.”  
  
Eliza groaned, pushing herself off the wall she had chosen to lean on. She could already predict the verbal onslaught her older sister was rapidly preparing in her mind as the youngest dished out petty insults aimed to maul. This had gone on far enough. She stalked on over, hiking her bag over her shoulder as she pulled Peggy aside, “Guys,” she began sternly, giving Angelica a warning look, “it’s not worth it.”

She watched in triumph as Angelica scowled and Peggy bit her lip, stopping herself from talking any further. Eliza watched for the subtle signs of their resolve dissolving, a sharp intake of breath, white knuckled fists relaxing ever so slightly, tense shoulders dropping. She scored it as an internal achievement, nodding to the boy in a silent warning to “get the frick out of here.” Almost immediately the boy turned and scurried down the hallway.

For whilst it was a fairly substantial assumption that Angelica or Peggy held the power, Eliza was notoriously skilful at getting what she wanted by a simple look, and that made her the most dangerous of them all.

Peggy huffed as they walked down the hallway “he had it coming.”

Angelica pursed her lips, “If you’d have been there, if you’d have seen it-”

“I _was_ there Angie,” Eliza began, “ I _did_ see it.”

Angelica frowned, “See, we had the perfect opportunity to make a reference and you ruined it.”  
  
Peggy cackled as Eliza smirked, “You love me anyway.”  
  
Angelica grinned, “I do.”

The girls made their way to Political Science, waving to the youngest as she continued on to her Forensic Science class. The classroom was fairly empty, save a few early birds who arrived to get their favourite seats. The Schuyler’s sat in the third row to the front, close enough to the professor to engage properly, but far enough that they could relax.

Eliza and Angelica chatted aimlessly, getting out their notes from last lesson to review and their laptops prepared to take new notes, “… I just don’t understand how sexist pigs like him can roam around…” Angelica rambled as Eliza half tuned her out in favour of going over her notes.

“You need to learn to pick your battles,” Eliza sighed, her voice tired. They had had this conversation to many times to count and it was growing wearisome, “Some junior is hardly worth the effort.”

“All the more reason to call him out on his bullshit! He can’t enter society with such right wing views.”

Eliza chuckled, “live to fight another day.”

Angelica huffed out a laugh and continued rambling, Eliza electing to tune out her older sister in favour of studying. She was studiously reading her notes on America’s multi party, absorbed in the notes and “…the biggest political rivalry of their century…” that she barely noticed a loud crash emanating from across the room. She felt a shuffle beside her as Angelica left her seat quickly. Eliza frowned, following her sister down the steps and over to a young man who had dropped his laptop bag on the ground.

He looked up and locked eyes with Eliza and in that moment she felt the world freeze. The boy had the most startling pair of emerald eyes, ones that sparked under the artificial light of the classroom. They were the most vibrant shade of green she had ever seen, the kind that forced itself through the muddy snow of winter, bringing strong life to bare trees. The type of passionate, wild green that painted the ocean during a storm, as though they reflected a myriad of galaxies making the very sun weep in envy. Her heart jumped into her throat as her breath hitched, with clammy hands she forced herself to still her shaking legs, they were intoxicating. She was drowning.

She watched as he walked by his sister’s side, up the steps and presumably, towards her. With each step she grew hot, her scarf and gloves feeling suffocating against her skin. It was like time had slowed down to the beat of a doomsday drum, a vast contrast the the rabbit like pounding of her heart, her pulse vibrating in her ears as all she could focus on were those damn _eyes_.

She closed her eyes, using all her strength to regulate her breathing. White noise flooded her surroundings as she focused on simply breathing in.

And breathing out.

She felt her hands clench, her nails digging into the palms of her hands which were sure to leave little moon crescent marks. The pain was almost numbing as she realised her palms, forcing her nervous energy through her fingertips and dispersing it away from her.

She sighed, the pounding of her head ceasing to a dull throb. Breathing in.

Breathing out.

Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, squinting at the blinding brightness of the room. She hadn’t realised her eyes had been screwed shut so tight. She fiddled with her lucky green pen, not daring herself to look up. She couldn’t trust her own manically beating heart to not jump at full force upon seeing the boy she knew was walking towards her.

Eliza watched the pen roll on the desk, marvelling at how it stopped moving after a certain length of time, as if gravity was somehow a sentient being controlling where it went and how long it could travel. It was almost amusing in a way, to personify inanimate objects and gravitational forces. She moved the pen slightly to the left and watched it bounce over her books spine like a speed bump, seemingly moving faster as if that had jump started it into overdrive.

She practically leapt out of her seat in shock when Angelica tapped her on the shoulder, the tension in her body acting as a springboard to fling her into the air like a trapeze artist. She heard a snort behind her and almost scowled at the amused expression plastered on her older sisters face.

Elizabeth turned her head to the boy, smiling weakly “Elizabeth Schuyler,” she greeted, sticking out her hand to shake.

Up close, she noticed more about the boy than his eyes. Like his tan skin, the light dusting of freckles that were sprinkled on his nose, his long dark hair swept up in a loose pony tail behind him. He raised an eyebrow to Angelica “Schuyler?”  
  
Angelica grinned, “My sister.”  
  
He smiled towards Eliza, and she was practically blinded by his poster boy smile, he stuck out his hand to shake hers and upon impact- froze. Those captivating smaragdine eyes widened to saucers and his jaw comically dropped. He began murmuring, whispering to himself, but she could only make out one word.

“Blue”

-/-

She had been enamoured with Alexander instantly, but falling in love with him had taken a bit longer. She could recall three events that had solidified her love for him.

Eliza had been a shopkeeper for the local florist when he burst in through the door like a lightning storm. A hoodie at least three sizes too big thrown on, stained jeans and hair thrown into a haphazard bun, his eyes screamed fury as he stormed up to her.

Eliza noticed his sunken bags under his eyes a mile away, creating dark grey blotches on his otherwise perfect skin, “What’s wrong now?”  
  
He slammed a $20 note on the bench, “How do I aggressively say ‘fuck you and everything you stand for’ in flowers?”

Eliza couldn’t help but laugh, of course Alexander would be this extra just to prove a point, “This wouldn’t happen to be for Jefferson would it?”

“Burr, actually. Jefferson isn’t good enough for flowers,” he huffed vehemently.

Eliza smirked, feeling her heart clench slightly at the thought of Alex giving Burr flowers, the two had a rather odd relationship, but a close one nonetheless, “Oh? But Burr is?”  
  
Alexander scowled, “Well I can’t very well egg his dorm room, it’s _my_ dorm room too y’know. If I’m going to give him any revenge, I want to enjoy it too.”

Eliza chuckled, slipping on some latex gloves before grabbing his hand to guide him around the shop. “Well, we most definitely need [wild tansy](http://www.seasonalwildflowers.com/uploads/images/July/Tansy/web%205.jpg)\- they mean ‘I declare war on you’. Peggy loves these,” she added half-heartedly, picking one up from the pot and pressing the bud to her nose, breathing in the sweet sent, “they’re yellow so she can see their colour.” She placed them in the basket with a heavy smile, wishing she too could see their colour, before pressing onwards. “Apparently these are yellow too.” She began, picking up a bunch of [St John’s Wort](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4e/Peelbark_St._Johns-wort_\(Hypericum_fasciculatum\)_\(6439017119\).jpg), “these mean animosity.”

Alexander frowned, “Wait, flower language relies on colour.”  
  
Eliza gave a heavy sigh, “Yeah-” she paused, realising the immense irony of working with flowers when one couldn’t see colour. She looked up at his and was almost shocked to silence, those vibrant green eyes shining with nothing but adoration. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest as she continued, “Flowers are normally used to symbolise love, therefore when one found their true love, the amount of colour flowers supposedly has are a true gift.”

Alexander gave a small smile, “That’s actually a really beautiful way of looking at it.” He frowned slightly, “I still want my hate bouquet though.”  
  
Eliza laughed brightly, the tightness in her chest easing as she retook his hand to guide him around the store. “At some point it was believed that breathing anemone would make you sick, so we’re totally adding some [garden anemone](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/6b/26/1a/6b261aafeda8394ae1a28539b109d51a.jpg) to it.” She grinned, handpicking out some especially bright flowers. “Nowadays it just means poison, which kinda works in your case.”

Eliza fumbled with the basket slightly, before Alex quickly took it from her. She stopped for a moment, looking at him curiously, he simply winked, urging her to continue. Eliza frowned slightly, it was a rather peculiar thing for Alex to do, but then again, _everything_ about him was strange. It was endearing, honestly.

She shrugged slightly before moving on, “[Fragrant Coltsfoot](http://www.eightfoldyear.org/Dec-3a.jpg),” she grinned triumphantly, “in your context will mean ‘you’ll get what you deserve’.

Alexander chuckled, “Oh that’s good.”

She stopped, her brain whirring as she attempted to think of what else, “Oh! And [Privet](https://vineyardgazette.com/sites/default/files/article-assets/main-photos/2013/privet.jpg)! The stay away flower!” She sprinted across the store, pointedly ignoring the feeling of Alex watching her in her giddy spree. She snatched a bunch from the bin, feeling the soft tips of the flowers tickle her nose in delight.  She sauntered on back and dropped them in the basket. “I think that’s everything.”

They wandered back to the desk, hand in hand. Alexander placed the basket on the table, watching with inquisitive eyes as Eliza made her arrangement. She focused on complimenting the size of the flowers and their shapes, using the privet to add fodder to the bouquet. She looked back at her work and frowned, it just wasn’t… right.

“You’ve got 'fuck you and everything you stand for', but it’s not aggressive.” She stated, eyeing the bouquet in contempt.

Alexander shrugged, “Burr’s a weed, I don’t think he really deserves it to be perfect.”  
  
A weed…

Eliza slammed the table in triumph, that’s it! “[Dodder](http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/Portals/0/Gardening/Gardening%20Help/images/Pests/Dodder727.jpg)!” She cried, “ _that’s_ what it needs.”

She pulled Alexanders hand to the back of the store, throwing open the employee door and into the cold mid-winter air. She scanned the ground, looking for the parasitic weed, “It represents the lack of skills to have a friendship,” She explained half-heartedly, planting her knees on the ground to pull the weed out of the ground.

She grunted in exertion, one thing she had always admired about weeds were their sturdy sense of survival, no matter where they were or the efforts people put in to destroy them, they always seemed to thrive. Alexander laughed, bending down to help her pull it out. Together, with a final tug they pulled it out, root’s and all.

Eliza grinned as grey dirt flung into the air and into their hair and clothes, laughing blissfully. “Now you’ll have the most aggressive bouquet of flowers known to man.”

Eliza watched in awe as the man in front of her laughed, instantly changing her definition of what a genuine laugh actually was. She had always thought laughter came from the mouth but Alexander was never that subtle. His laugh racked his whole body, as though it came from within him, hard wired into his very movements. His eyes sparkled with glee, his face relaxed in an unrestrained moment of pure joy, the noise a musical symphony, bubbling and growing around him like a beanstalk. It was tantalising, the sound washed over her, transporting her into a world without the restrains of modern life. Dirt splattered on his face, in his hair, she had never seen him look so carefree, so… _content._

She resolved that she definitely wouldn’t mind Alexander laughing more often.

-/-

“What is that?” Alexander asked sceptically, eyeing the roll in Eliza’s had in suspicion.

Eliza looked up at her best friend, she had dragged them out shopping since the man never ate, “It’s cookie dough.”  
  
Alexander frowned, “Cookie dough? As in the stuff that makes cookies?” His eyes (oh, she had never gotten over his eyes) widened in realisation, she could almost see his brain whirring, frantically connecting the dots before dramatically short circuiting, “You can get that premade?!”

Elizabeth stared at him as if he had just pulled out a fully grown giraffe from his pocket, she felt her jaw slack and her eyes pop out of her skull, like one of those squeeze toys from the carnival, “You’ve never had cookie dough before?” she breathed.

Alexander shook his head feverishly, snatching the bar from her hands. He eyes roamed over the label, before looking up at her and giving a blinding grin, we’re totally making cookies when we get home.”  
  
Eliza laughed, taking the roll back was they walked to the registers, “Or we could just eat it normally.”

Alexander frowned as they used the self-service checkout booth, “Isn’t that what we’re doing? Making cookies.”  
  
Eliza chuckled, the adorable look of confusion on his face was absolutely precious and she wished she had, had her phone in her hand at that moment, to preserve the picture forever. “No one makes actual cookies from cookie dough,” she began, swiping her card through the machine to pay for the bill whilst Alexander was distracted and therefore, wouldn’t argue with her.

“How else are you meant to eat cookie dough?” He asked, “Isn’t it’s purpose to be baked?”  
  
Eliza shrugged as they wandered back towards the dorms in the early spring air, the brisk wind sending chills down her spine. She was glad she had rugged up, and glad too that Alexander was wearing gloves and a scarf with one of his signature oversized hoodies, “I’m sure originally that was the case, now- not so much.”

“Then how is it used?” He asked as they wandered into Alexanders dorm complex. It was always a blessing that the supermarket was literally a 2-minute walk away – if that.

Eliza laughed, fishing out her keys, “You eat it _raw_ Alex.”

Alex spluttered, “What? The packet _specifically_ said to not eat it raw.”

Eliza chuckled, setting the groceries down on the bench, “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried it” she said with a grin as she absentmindedly began putting away the groceries.

Alexander wandered over to help out, taking a carton of milk out of her hands to place into the fridge. The scene was oddly… domestic. She found that she could get used to this.

Eliza stole the roll of cookie dough from Alex as he attempted to put it in the fridge, “No, you’re trying this now,” she said sternly, peeling off the wrapper.

Alexander looked at it in mild disgust, “That fucking _raw_ cookie dough.”

Eliza slapped his arm playfully, “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” she said with a shit eating grin, taking a bite out of the dough. Eliza made an exaggerated moan in delight as she chewed it, she had genuinely forgotten how good cookie dough was. The sweet taste of the sugary dough, the way the chocolate from the m&m’s melted in her mouth, it tasted like her childhood, like home.

She held it out to Alexander, almost mockingly. He scowled, taking the roll from her, “Only if it’ll get you to shut up,” he mused.

Eliza bit her lip in an effort to stop crying out with laughter as he took the most miniscule bite humanly possible. He paused, looking down at the roll curiously, before taking a larger- proper bite.

His eyes widened as his visibly tried to hide a moan, “This is incredible!” He cried, with his mouth still full. He looked at the bar hungrily, wasting no time on manners as he tore into it. Eliza felt the dam burst and roared in laughter at the sight of him. His hair flying behind him as this small boy ripped into cookie dough. It was beautiful, a simple pure sight.

She smiled as she took out the second roll she had snuck into their shopping, wandering over to him, “So, I was totally right then?”

Alexander grinned, “Elizabeth Schuyler, I think I might just marry you if it means you keep _providing_ this for me.”

Eliza shoved his shoulder playfully, ignoring how her heart leapt at his words as she peeled her own wrapper down, “Y’know if you had basic self-care, you could go down to the store and buy your own cookie dough whenever you wanted.”

“No, it’d be the only thing I’d eat,” he mused through another bite, “this is heavenly honestly,” he paused, getting back on topic, “but no, I’d need someone to reign me in.”  
  
Eliza felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as he looked her over, with such care and sincerity. Her heart beat ever so more as he inched his hand out to her face. She almost cried out in despair when he paused, and had to stop herself protesting as he slunk it behind her head- that is, until he pulled her into a hug. “Seriously Betsey, I dunno what I’d do without you.”

Eliza felt her heart soar as she heard his words against her hair. She clung back tightly, relishing the rare opportunity to show affection towards him.

She was in deep.

-/-

A jagged flash of bright light flooded the room for a second, Alexander flinched, clutching onto Eliza for dear life. The wind didn't howl against the windows, it screamed. They had never experienced a storm such as this in late spring but alas, here they were, the building swaying and moaning slightly as the harsh wind battered it. It was dark outside, even if it had been day time Eliza wasn’t sure the clouds would have been light enough to let the sun through.

The shattering roll of thunder wailed against the quiet room, Alexander shaking by her side as they cuddled up on the couch, the movie they had been watching long forgotten. Angelica and Peggy lay asleep on the floor, having fallen into slumber an hour or so ago, Eliza knew no force on earth could wake them, so she left them be.

She stroked Alexanders hair absentmindedly, rubbing his shoulder at every flinch or vibrating shake that coursed through him. “It’s alright,” she whispered soothingly into his hair, “you’re safe here.”

Alexander shook his head against her as a another clap of thunder shook the room, as though the sky itself was cracking under the sheer weight of the storm. The rain was more like an avalanche of cascading stones, merciless and torrential, rather than the calm fall of water droplets. Sweat drenched Alexanders skin as he shook against her side, eyes screwed shut as he buried himself into her welcome arms. She could hear his rapid, laboured breathing as she whispered sweet nothings to him. He’d never let her hold him before, which made her all the more fearful for him.

Time passed slowly, they remained hidden in the mountain of blankets that formed a cocoon around them on the sofa. She could feel Alexanders raging pulse with each desperate breath he took. He whimpered into her neck, clawing at her in a desperate attempt to keep her there, but she would never move, not when he needed her like this. She almost shocked herself as she realised this dedication this need she had over him, to always protect him and be by his side.

She pulled him further into the embrace- if that was even possible, and sung in his ear. Little titbits she had picked up as a child, nursery rhymes and old childhood songs as they waited for the storm to calm down.

Eventually, and after three renditions of the entirety of twinkle twinkle little star, the storm died down to the pitter patter of rain and still, they had not moved. The air was cold and stale as they lay there in their embrace. She felt his pulse even out from the erratic pace of earlier, settling for a much more even rhythm. He sighed into her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, so quiet that had his head not been next to hers, she doubted she would’ve heard it.

Eliza looked at him incredulously, “Alex, you have nothing to be sorry for.”  
  
Alexander huffed out a bitter laugh, “Of course I do, I used you for the better part of two hours to get through a goddamn storm.

“There’s nothing wrong with a fear of storms.” She murmured into his hair.

“I wish I wasn’t so afraid.” He muttered.

Eliza pulled her head back slightly enough so she could look into those brilliant eyes, “Fear is part of being human, Alex. The precursor of bravery. We need it, to wake us up, to motivate us, inspire us,” she smiled softly, rubbing his arm as she continued, “so feel it, own it. Let it ignite your thoughts and fuel you.”

Alexander gave a weak lopsided grin, hair falling in his face. She wouldn’t question his fear of storms, when he felt comfortable enough, he’d divulge that part of his life. For now, Eliza was perfectly content in being there for him.

She chuckled softly, brushing his hair out of his face. Her fingertips came into contact with his face and suddenly everything just-

Stopped.

It was though an electric shock coursed through her entire body, igniting parts of her soul she hadn’t realised were previously closed, stealing her breath and the heat from her skin. She gave a passing thought as to wonder why they hadn’t touched before but gave no mind to it as the air shot from her lungs. Her mouth stretched into a wide smile all on its own as her brain stretched in every direction a million miles a minute, so many thoughts streamed through her brain. Love, this was the feeling she had, all she had was love, all she wanted was for him to be safe. Then there was an onslaught of the sense and she felt as if she had been pummelled to the ground. _Colour_ , everywhere was colour! Not just green, but the red of sofa, the the blue of the blanket, the brown of Alexanders hair, the caramel of his skin, the pink of his full, slightly chapped lips. “Oh my god…” she breathed, barely finding the strength to speak.

Alexander looked at her with concern, “What, what is it?”  
  
And the illusion shattered. Eliza felt as if she had been punched in the gut, and suddenly, the ability to see colour meant nothing. She laughed bitterly to herself, of course her soul mate was unrequited. She belonged to him entirely and was destined to be nothing more than a friend.

She shot up, her vision blurring as the room spun. Dark clouds akin to the ones in the sky clouded her mind as she stumbled backwards, tripping over someone and hitting the wall, “I- I have to go.” She whispered, her heart pounding in her ears as she desperately looked for a way to escape. She walked backwards, eyes never leaving Alexanders as nausea swirled unrestrained in her stomach, her mouth metallic with blood. She fell into the hallway and ripped herself away from any trace of the living room.

In a daze she turned and sprinted with all her might out of his dorm room, down the corridor and into the open air, the rain drenching her. She could barely register the sound of the rain or the ice prickling cold on her skin over the raging storm in her ears. Her blood was tar as she ran with sloppy movements to where she vaguely recalled her own dorm room.

In a breeze she flung herself into her room, stumbling to her bed and collapsing into it, finally, allowing herself to cry.

-/-

Eliza didn’t leave her dorm for a days. The first day, Angelica and Peggy had demanded to be let in, Eliza refused, not even leaving her bedroom to tell her sisters to leave. She lay on her bed dormant, the colours surrounding her and mocking her. Sure, she could see it now, but at what cost?  
  
She felt her heart clench.

Oh yeah, heartbreak.

The second day someone slid class notes under her door. She wasn’t sure who but guessed it was Alexander, whom she shared all her classes with. Her heart shattered even more at the thought.

On the third day she reminisced about her pathetic pining over the man. His soul, that brilliant vibrant green of his eyes, had drawn her in with nothing but kindness and sweet words. Ravaging her in a fury akin to a hurricane.

No, that wasn’t right.

He was fire.

Burning, passionate, brilliant. He was beautiful to look at, to admire. The way he spoke, laughed, hell the very way he moved, dancing as if he were a flame. But he had been dangerous, getting too close to him, allowing herself to fall for him. Allowing herself to _love_ him.

The fourth day and she was angry, furious even. Of course the universe decided that oh yes, the soul she was connected to just couldn’t be with her. She felt the fire strongly, bubbling and burning in her veins as she paced her room in a fury, drilling a hole into the floor. She was never an angry soul, never violent or cruel, but once love was gone it's cold hand holds a grip on you faster than you can say no.

The fifth day and she was a broken mess on the floor, uncontrollable raw sobs erupting from her tiny frame in arduous gasps. True love was not something one could give up easily, her body racked with tears and she knelt on the floor, head on her bed in despair. She no longer had a heart, in it’s place was an angry red muscle, jeering her by frantically pumping blood through her veins, mocking her by keeping her alive.

On the sixth day she was numb. She wandered about the house aimlessly. She marvelled at the colour that surrounded her, taking in the blue hues of the sky, the dark greys of the floor, the simple pastel colours on the feature walls around the dorm room.

A knock seemingly awoke her from the trance. She turned and eyed the door warily, debating on whether or not to actually open it. No one had come by since the notes were slid under her door – which were still there, and she had no desire for human contact.

She groaned softly, knowing that it had been suspicious to be holed up in her dorm for almost a week. Her feet padded softly across the carpet as she edged her way to the door, if she had any feeling at all she supposed there would be dread coursing through her veins, but alas, there was nothing.

She took in a sharp breath before opening the door, almost laughing bitterly at the sight. There stood Alexander, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, “I didn’t have a good florist help me out with this but it’s supposed to mean ‘I’m worried about you and I hope you get better’,” he stuttered almost nervously.

Eliza frowned at the arrangement, whatever florist he had gone to had certainly done a poor job, nonetheless she appreciated the sentiment. She opened the door wider, stepping to the side to beckon him inside.

Alexander scurried in and almost sprinted towards the kitchen, sidestepping the class notes on the floor. He took out the dead arrangement that currently sat on the kitchen bench and threw it in the bin, emptying the water in the sink before refilling it with clean water. He placed the flowers in the vase and smiled proudly.

Eliza stood to the side, leaning against the hallway wall, “I don’t mean to sound rude Alexander,” she began, “but what are you doing here?”  
  
Alexander jumped slightly and turned to face her, she noticed pink dusting his checks. Oh, so _that’s_ what a blush looked like? She shook the thought from her head “We’re all worried about you Betsey,” he spoke timidly, as if trying to tame a wild animal, “you haven’t left your dorm room for almost a week and-”

“I’m not talking about it.” Eliza practically snapped.

Alexander recoiled slightly, before sighing, “No, I wasn’t going to ask you. You respect my privacy, I respect yours.”  
  
Eliza found the sentiment endearing, of course he was her soul mate, he knew her too well. “So what’s up then?” She asked, attempting a more light-hearted conversation.

Alex visibly brightened, those eyes that had started this whole mess sparkling, “I’m taking you to the animal shelter you need to get out.”

“The animal shelter...?” She asked, she had no idea why Alex would randomly take her to the shelter.

“You love animals right?” He asked hopefully.

Eliza nodded furiously, “Yeah of course, who doesn’t?”  
  
Alexander grinned and she swore for a moment that she would be content for the rest of her life if only she could see that every day, “Good! You’ll love it.”

The journey there hadn’t been long, after allowing Eliza enough time to get changed (she could finally colour coordinate outfits!) he drove them to the animal shelter in Angelica’s car. Damn, her sister must have been terrified if she had commissioned her car to be used in an attempt to cheer up Eliza. This thing was practically her sisters baby.

They arrived at the shelter and Eliza noticed it was an open day, ah, so that’s why they had come. Alexander scurried out the car before Eliza realised, holding her door out to her like a chivalrous gentleman. She would’ve snorted at the cheesiness of the moment if her heart didn’t flutter in her chest because of the gesture.

A man bounded towards them, he was tall with a cleanly shaved beard and wild hair pulled into a neat bun, “Welcome, welcome mes amis! You’re here to meet the animals no?” He asked handing them leaflets.

Alexander grinned, “Yeah we are, my friend Eliza needs some cheering up.”  
  
The man’s face broke out into a smile as he looked Eliza up and down, her own heart breaking at the use of ‘friend’, “Ah yes, you look to be in quite a state of distress if you don’t mind me saying so.”  
  
An even taller man with dark chocolate skin, his blue uniform constraining around his muscles, jogged over, “Gilbert!” he cried, “Don’t scare them off now love.”  
  
The first man, Gilbert, chuckled, “Sorry mes ami where are my manners? My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette,” Eliza coughed in surpise, “It is a mouthful no?” He laughed, “Most people call me Lafayette though, except my darling Hercules, mon âme sœur likes to call me Gilbert.”  
  
The other man, ‘Hercules’, it would seem jogged up towards them “You guys wanna meet the animals?”  
  
Alexander nodded, “Totally.”  
  
Hercules took Gilberts hand and Eliza felt a pit in her stomach, those two were in love, clear as day. They began walking with Alexander trailing behind and she felt herself helplessly follow after them. They rounded a corner into a bright room full of colour, a chalkboard on the side and a small boy with wild curls and skin painted with freckles sitting in the centre of the room playing with a Labrador.

The man looked up at the floor and grinned. Eliza had to admit, he was rather beautiful, with hazel eyes and freckles that seemed to dance across his skin. His smile was warm and inviting as she stood up, dusting the white fur off himself, “Hey, we actually have people over!”

She looked over towards Alex to find him firmly rooted in place, staring at the boy with wide eyes. She frowned slightly, it wasn’t common for Alexander to be left speechless, she tried not to feel jealousy towards the boy she had yet to meet.

The boys eyes locked with Alexanders and his smile only seemed to grow, “oh, Frances is going to love you,” he beamed.

Alexander shook himself out of his daze slightly, “Frances?”  
  
John sprinted over around the side, Hercules groaned, “It’s his turtle.”  
  
Lafayette looked at Eliza sympathetically, “John will have him trapped, would you like to meet Phillip instead?”  
  
Eliza looked over Lafayette's shoulder to see the boy – John, walking back out holding a turtle as green as Alexanders eyes, “I love him,” she heard him say, “because I can see his colour.”  
  
Eliza blinked hard, forcing herself to focus back on Lafayette, she attempted a grin, “of course.”

The two lead her over to the Labrador John had been playing with. She crouched down and hesitantly reached out a hand to scratch the scruff of his neck, the dog instantly reacted, bounding up to nuzzle into her in delight. “Success!” She heard Lafayette cry, “He likes you mon ami!”  
  
Hercules laughed, sitting down beside her to pat a cat, “That he does.”

Eliza felt her heart beat calmly in content as she stroked the dog. He was incredibly gentle, and with each pat she felt all the negative energy from the past six days disperse from her as she looked into the dogs loving eyes.

He was beautiful, with a dark coat and shining eyes, full of life and love, “Why would somebody give you up?” She whispered, mostly to herself.

There was a sudden crash behind her and instantly, all the animals in the room froze. Eliza slowly turned around, a sizzling tension in the air. She looked on dumbstruck as John and Alex stared at each other, Alex had fallen onto John somehow and brought a shelf of toys down with him. They scattered around the floor like the very force of them colliding caused a reverberation so powerful it shook the earth. Slowly, both their faces morphed into a smile.

“Hi.” Alex whispered tenderly.

“Hey.”  
  
The world froze and Eliza _knew_ , Alexander had found his soulmate.

And it wasn’t her.

-/-

Eliza sat in the corner, watching Alexander and John with uncontrollable envy when she should’ve been focused on the movie. She was squished between her sisters on the floor, whilst Alex and John took up the sofa that had previously been her seat, and Lafayette and Hercules took up the loveseat.

Heartbreak comes in waves, she thought sadly. Some days it was bearable, a cold ache like drying concrete. The next minute it was gruelling, cutting her down from the core, like a shard in her guts that never leaves. The world had shattered around her and she would probably spend the rest of her life picking up the pieces.

Alexander may be fire, but he loved like the storms he so venomously feared. Maybe that was why he feared them so, for they reflected his very nature as a person. For his love was no less than a hurricane, the devastation of the heartbreak he left was absolute, she was torn apart.

But she was happy for him, it was odd really. She felt as if she should hate John with every fibre of her being but she simply could not. For he was the reason Alex smiled so brightly at this current moment, stroking his hair and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Oh how she longed to be in Johns place, but for now she forced herself to find happiness in watching from afar, knowing her love was happy.

She would remain the weed in the bouquet that was Alexanders life, forever enduring and surviving no matter how many times he absentmindedly stomped on her heart. She would remain as the last piece he needed to complete himself, making herself whatever he desired to remain whole. As long as she could be in his life, that would be enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *moves chess piece* ... *raises single eyebrow*
> 
> your move @[fanfictiongreenirises](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfictiongreenirises/pseuds/fanfictiongreenirises)
> 
> -/-
> 
> scream at me on [tumblr](https://lesty-xx.tumblr.com/) ^~^ 
> 
> I promise to scream back, I have no life =D


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